blog

2005-10-08-masui-onegai-shimasu.md (5054B)

---

 +++
 title = "麻酔お願いします！"
 date = "2005-10-08T00:00:00Z"
 slug = "masui-onegai-shimasu"
 tags = ["Japan"]
 +++
 
 Yesterday was my first trip to the dentist in years. The last time was just
 before moving to Mexico, in the summer of 2001. As you might imagine, I was not
 entirely expecting a clean bill of dental health. The fact that I had once
 again ignored my dentist's advice to floss daily was not improving my outlook
 one bit.
 
 So it was with some trepidation that I went to see Dr Nakasawa yesterday
 afternoon at 3 o'clock. I stepped into the office, swapped my shoes for
 slippers, filled out some forms, and took a seat in the waiting room,
 attempting to pass the time by reading ads in Japanese for Sonicare
 toothbrushes.
 
 Eventually, I heard the receptionist call out 'Bracken-san!' The door swung
 open, and I was escorted to a chair and told to have a seat and wait for a few
 moments with nothing to do except stare at the assortment of torture
 instruments laid out on the table in front of me.
 
 Now, in Canada, this is the point where the hygenist comes in, cleans your
 teeth, tells you what a poor job you've done of brushing your teeth over the
 last six months, asks you whether you've actually bothered to floss even once
 since the last time you came, then takes off and the dentist comes in and pokes
 around. In Japan, it goes only slightly differently. The dentist comes straight
 in, cleans your teeth, tells you what a poor job you've done of brushing your
 teeth, asks you whether you've actually bothered to floss even once since you
 last came in, then starts poking around. Normally, that is.
 
 *Chotto akete kudasai.* I opened my mouth. Dr Nakasawa looked around for a
 moment, poking at things with his tools, then paused. 
 
 *Kono chiryou wa Nihon de moraimashita?*
 
 'No, didn't get 'em here. I got all my fillings in Canada.' 
 
 Another pause. *Aah, Canada-jin desu ka? Daigakusei no jidai, Eigo o benkyou
 shimashita kedo, mou hotondo wasurete-shimaimashita.*
 
 'That's ok, I'll try my best in Japanese.'
 
 Dr Nakasawa takes another glance in my mouth, does a bit more poking and says
 to the hygenist 'Number 14 looks like an A. 18 looks like a B. 31... is A-ish.'
 Dr Nakasawa sits back in his chair. Another pause. 
 
 'These fillings... the grey ones,' he says, 'how long ago did you get these?'
 
 'I don't know, maybe when I was in middle-school. A long time ago. I haven't
 had a filling in years.'
 
 'They're really old. This one here looks like it's chipped away on the edge and
 the tooth underneath has a little bit of discolouration that may well be a
 cavity. We don't really do this style of filling in Japan anymore, but what I'd
 suggest — it's up to you — is that we remove these, check for cavities
 underneath, do any cleanup you need, then replace them with modern fillings.'
 
 'Sure, the last dentist I talked to mentioned these were getting pretty awful
 too, so sure... sounds good. Let's do it.'
 
 'Okay, I'm particularly worried about this one here, so let's start with this
 one.'
 
 'Sounds good.'
 
 'Would you like to book a time next week, or if you have time I could do it
 today?'
 
 'I've got no plans for the rest of the day, let's just get it over with.'
 
 'Alright. *Masui wa dou desu ka? Hitsuyou desu ka?*'
 
 Now here I want to remind you that although I can get by in day-to-day life and
 carry on a conversation in Japanese, one of the unequivocal facts of gaijin
 life is that there are some words you simply don't know, and to keep the flow
 of conversation going, you skip them and pick up the general idea from context.
 So when someone says to you 'What about *masui*? Would you like it?' in a tone
 that suggests that really, you probably wouldn't, your instinct tends to be to
 say 'no, no.'
 
 One of the wonderful things about living in another country is that
 occasionally you're pleasantly surprised by turn of events that leads to an
 experience that you'd almost certainly never have stumbled your way into back
 home. These experiences often upend long-held, fundamental beliefs that you'd
 have never even thought to question in your life.
 
 However, I am going to tell you right now that there is no question at all that
 getting your teeth drilled with no freezing hurts almost exactly as much as
 you'd imagine it does.
 
 The full meaning of Dr Nakasawa's question, and of what was about to transpire,
 became crystal clear as he picked up the drill, looked me in the eyes and said
 'Open wide, and put your hand up if at any point you can't handle the pain.' I
 swear I detected just the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he said this
 to me, but I didn't have long to think about it because it was it was at this
 point that I began focussing my entire being on keeping my hands clamped in a
 death grip on the armrests of the dental chair.
 
 I walked out of the office that day with a shiny new hole in my tooth and a
 temporary filling while they create the permanent one. I managed to do this
 without once raising my hand, but Dr Nakasawa's lucky his chair has still got
 its bloody armrests attached.